Elintézetlen: Unfinished Business: All Too Soon
by Decidedly Average
Summary: "She's everything now; your days, your nights, and the little moments in between. You pour all of your energy, all of your love and attention into her, perhaps even to your detriment. Though certainly not to hers." - Harry takes a leap of faith to pin down his soulmate...which could change the lives of team Lyell center forever... M - just to be safe!
1. Relapse

**Good evening everyone. I'm a newbie, though I have been a lurker for a while! I intended to stay that way, but then this came into my head and wouldn't go away. I had to write it down before it came bursting out of me like something from alien! I'll explain now, it is going to be a few separate stories, with a few chapters in each, when I write, I tend to write one-shoty type stories that all link together. So, if you like this, please drop me a wee comment and I'll keep posting!**

**This is my head's little idea of what should maybe have happened after series 14/ during series 15. I feel that the writers didn't have enough time to do 'Bloodlines' justice in the following episodes. Look at the way he fell apart after Penny, for example. I think Harry repressed his grief for Anna, so decided to write it myself.**

**I don't own anything...not a single thing. I don't even own my own house.**

**Sooooo nervous! Hope you talented bunch like this!**

**D.A. xxx**

**June 21****st**** – 2011 – Entry 10.**

"_Harry. Have a seat."_

Her voice is warm, welcoming, in a static, robotic kind of way. It used to make you recoil, scowl, want to throw something. But now you oblige. You feel relaxed, comfortable. You can't deny it; she's good at her job.

"_You wanted to speak to me?"_

"_Yes."_

"_A relapse?"_

"_Not quite."_

She sits back, adopts your body language, an attempt to make you feel comfortable you assume. She is waiting for you to continue.

"_These…pills…what are the side effects?"_

A raised eyebrow.

"_Harry?"_

"_The side affects. What are they?"_

"_Well, nausea, drowsiness…perhaps moodswings…why?"_

"_Dreams?"_

She is looking at you, nonplussed. So you continue.

"_I've been having… dreams. Dreams that I haven't had before. Vivid dreams. Quite…graphic, some of them."_

"_What are they about, Harry?"_

You're not sure you want to answer her. While she doesn't know and you haven't said it, you don't have to confront it. You can keep it secret, hidden away like you always have. To say it aloud would make it true, even more true than it feels right now in your heart.

They had plagued him for a while now. These dreams. Or fantasies as some would call them. It was almost always the same thing, only minor details would change. Like the song on the radio in the background - tinny in the clinical atmosphere of the cutting room - or the moment at which the dream began.

Or the colour of her underwear.

Other than that it's always the same.

"_My colleague. They're about my colleague."_

_No words are spoken, she's clearing up after a pm, putting things away. He comes up behind her, unnoticed, and places his hands on her hips. She freezes. He leaves a gentle kiss on the bare skin of her shoulder left bare by scrubs and she releases a sigh. He can smell her. That heady, mesmerising smell that he remembers from the times spent at her home, when he was completely wrapped in it. The sheets, the furniture, the air. She spins round in his arms, gracefully, as if in a dance, and drapes her arms over his shoulders. She looks him right in the eye. She looks so stunning he almost staggers back. And the look she gives is so honest, he's seen it somewhere before. She even whispers the words to match the memory, her lips inches from his._

"_He thinks you're irreplaceable."_

_The kiss is gentle at first, apprehensive, but neither of them pull back. Their mouths open in coincidental synchronicity and the kiss deepens. _

_They end up in the locker room showers, the smell of her damp hair almost as arousing as her naked body pressed to him. Nothing is rushed. They take their time. But there is greed behind it, greed and passion and lust and 7 years of wanting. _

_He tortures her with his teeth and she explores him with nails on every slip of skin. Sighs and groans can increasingly be heard over the running water of the shower as he pulls her hips to his own with a base grip, teeth on her ear. In the heat of the moment the shower suddenly stops and he curses, punching the button back down and causing her to laugh. It's intimate and it's loving and it's so…them._

_Hands pull her closer still as the tension increases. He lifts her with ease, as if she were a child, into his arms and her legs wrap around his hips. _

_He'll never forget the look in her eyes as she comes._

"_I do too."_

You can feel your face burning and you don't remember ever wanting the ground to swallow you up as much as you do now.

"_So, you're attracted to this girl?"_

"_Yes…Look is this normal?"_

"_When someone finds themselves in a state of depression, often repressed emotions, feelings, find their way back into the conscious. The trauma you suffered has probably pushed these thoughts back into the front of your unconscious."_

"_So it's normal?"_

"_Expected. But it also means you have a lot still to talk out. It's unusual that you haven't mentioned her before now."_

Suddenly, it's all so blatantly, painstakingly clear. Somewhere in between your desk being invaded by bones from the Brechon Beacans dig and watching her get ready for a friend's birthday party in the office, you stopped seeing her as just a friend. It never has just been a friendship. Full stop.

"_I'm in love with her."_

This confession takes you both by surprise and you run a hand through your hair.

"_I suggest you don't act on that, Harry. Not yet. We still have work to do before anyone else is added to this equation."_

You thought she knew you. Perhaps she just trusted you. If she did know you she would know that you are stubborn. When someone warns you against something, it makes you more inclined to do it.

At least that's partly the reason you decided to bite the bullet.

The other reason was James.

Professional, rich, handsome, entrepreneur, James.

He's perfect for her in every way. She's not his bit on the side or time-filler or eye-candy. She's his queen, his angel, his everything. He makes her laugh, buys her nice things and takes her out every weekend. He began to fall in love with her and he told her straight. She fell, and he caught her.

_Why hadn't you done that?_

It gives you a fright, when you see them; matching dress code, arms linked and beaming, at the annual Thomas Lyell Centre summer barbeque.

You know you're not ready. You can feel it with every fibre of your body. You still find it hard to switch off, to sleep. Your skin has thinned and you're less resilient than you were. There is unfinished business between you and your demons. Anna's ghost still lingers.

But she was never going to wait forever.


	2. Dissecting Hearts

**For those of you who read and reviewed the last chapter, thank you so much. It really does mean a lot to me. You're all so lovely! This is going to be a very up/down type story, but you'll have to just trust me. Anyway, enjoy! xx**

Things had become more awkward between them recently, since he moved out of her flat. For Harry, it was because of the dreams, because he couldn't look at her without thinking about…_that_. For her it was fear of the unknown. Not knowing how he would take to her latest 'unsuitable'. She told herself it was time to move on. He wasn't interested. Well, maybe he was, once, but she didn't have forever to wait on him, she wouldn't be 35 forever, but somehow his blessing still meant a great deal to her.

Fortunately this one wasn't a paramedic.

Unfortunately, Harry still didn't like him.

He tells her how funny he is and how she's '_done well_' this time. But she sees the looks he gives James when he thinks no one is looking. The truth is she's always looking. That's sort of the problem.

But she doesn't understand why. Why is no one ever good enough? If it's not jealousy? She's began playing a sort of childish game at dinners and the like; tries to be as intimate with other men as possible in Harry's sightlines to try and provoke a reaction. Most of the time she is too far off to see the fire ignite in his eyes, so she believes no reaction will come.

Until this changes.

It was the annual Lyell centre summer BBQ and the day had turned out beautifully, good food, good company and brilliant sunshine. She dressed up. He noticed. They spoke briefly when collecting drinks and then went their separate ways. She saw him later while with James at the other side of the gardens, sitting, brooding, alone, and she felt an overwhelming surge of love for him. She wanted to be with him, talking to him, not James and these bumptious newly graduated students trying to get their foot in the door. She takes the opportunity to kiss her boyfriend's jaw, gripping the lapels of his jacket in the process. Never one to miss out on a public display of affection, James scoops her up, quite unexpectedly, into his arms, causing her to squeal loudly.

What happened next changed the charged atmosphere to something infinitely more uncomfortable. In quite a public fashion, Harry got up from his seat and left in what seemed to be a temper, grabbing his coat on the way past, a half-empty bottle fell from the table and smashed. There were a few gasps and whispers. The mischievous grin you had sent in James's direction had dissipated. Harry Cunningham didn't even look back.

Its days later, the Monday to be precise, when she finally sees him again, when he strides into the locker room as she is half way through getting changed.

"_Shit, sorry."_

"_Don't be."_

He lingers for a moment and then turns to leave. Only when she speaks does he come into the body of the room and sit down heavily on the benches, albeit with his back to her.

"_I said it's fine. I'm pretty sure you've seen the likes before."_

He allows her to finish dressing in silence and even after she's finished he doesn't speak. He sits, hands clasped, elbows on knees, face scrunched up with what looks like concern. She chooses to ignore it.

"_Did you have a nice time on Saturday?"_

"_Average."_

"_More people than usual."_

"_Were there?"_

He looks at her then with such intensity, as if she is the only human being on the planet that he gives a damn about. The only human being that he really _saw_ on Saturday. The only one he _wanted _to see. But it is only for a second. She blinks and he is back to sulking. She's had enough. It's been a long day, she regrets playing that dangerous game with him at the party and she doesn't want an argument.

"_Whatever, Harry"_

On slamming her locker closed and turning to leave he startles her by standing quickly and forcefully grabbing her arm, pulling her hazardously close. She's wearing freshly washed clothes, he thinks, as the distinct smell of her fills his nostrils presenting him with a courage he didn't know he processed.

"_Do you love him?"_

"_What?"_

"_Do you love him?"_

"_I – I could love him."_

"_And is that good enough?"_

"_What!" _

"_I said is that good enough?"_

She wrenches her arm from his base grip and when he stands in her path, she moves back into the room, as far away from his touch as she can get, he notes.

"_What is your problem, Harry?"_

"_What do you want, Nikki?"_

He sees the anger on her face, then the confusion and finally the surprise as –he hopes – she realises what he's saying, what he's offering, in a roundabout way. That was so like them, nothing was ever said the way it was intended, always covered up with jokes and games and...symbolism.

Not anymore.

"_You know what I want, Harry."_

She's a strong person. She cuts up the bodies of decomposing old men for a living. Her field is dominated by family deprived, power crazed men who think they know best. By nature, she has to be strong. So how, he ponders, is it possible for her to look so weak in a split second? She's shaking slightly, her jaw clenched as if she is holding back tears, her eyes are pleading, shining. He wants to hold her, take her in his arms and tell her that it'll be okay, you'll mend, as long as you're together. He can't though. For now, she belongs to someone else. For a moment too long, he loses himself. She is gone.

He doesn't see her for the remainder of the day and he spends half the time he has left wondering where she is and the other half considering what her words could have meant. If they were both on the same page, what she had said was massive. A breakthrough almost. Having done none of the tox reports Leo has left him, he decides that there is only one thing her words could have meant. He leaves a note for her in his desk drawer, confident that she will find it.

He's given up hope by the time he walks to his car on that hazy summer evening. He had a scenario in his head of how the situation would play out, and this wasn't it. He's old enough to know by now that fairytales don't exist. She's probably in the cutting room right now, dissecting hearts and listening to capital fm while texting James about what they'll have for dinner.

She's not.

She's at the door of the Lyell Centre, her eyes fixed on him. She looks different somehow, fresher, freer as she runs towards him, her hair falling out in golden veins from its neat bun at the back of her head. As she nears him, she doesn't slow and he almost braces himself against the open door of his car. She collides with him at full speed, but he barely notice as it's her lips that come at him first and he completely loses himself in her. She opens her mouth against his lips and he pulls her body flush against his own. She lets out a soft sigh as his tongue leaves her mouth and his lips trail across the blushing skin of her neck. Lost in the moment, she lets his note fall from slender fingers to the ground behind him, words smudging, melting into the damp.

"_I want it too x"_


	3. Beating Hearts

**Hi again! Chapter 3 here! Those of you who have reviewed, honestly, thank you. You've really made my week. I have no idea why it means so much to me, perhaps I secretly want to be a writer! Anyway, hope you enjoy, everything is going to stay quite fluffy...for now. I've used a song in this one, I thought it was quite appropriate for them, or them in my head :P It's called Amsterdam by Coldplay, you might want to have a listen towards the end of the chapter, to get yourelf in the same place I was when I wrote this, if you do, you'll find it on youtube I'm sure :)**

**Anyway, I should probably say I don't own it. I can't play piano...or sing. Wish I could. Review if you like, it would make me smile loads!**

**DA xxx**

To question whether things would be okay had never crossed your mind. Why would it? She was happy. That made you happy. Happier than you can remember being in a very long time.

It's become a guilty pleasure of yours, watching her sleep, hair splayed out on the crisp, white pillow.

It's not like you have anything better to do at such an early hour.

She's everything now; your days, your nights, and the little moments in between. You pour all of your energy, all of your love and attention into her, perhaps even to your detriment.

Though certainly not to hers.

You hear the lab techs comment on it and smile – at how she's changed. Even you can see it. She was once tense, worried, on edge. Now the pale of her skin has been replaced by a euphoric pink glow. Her eyes sparkle again. She's not as painfully thin as she was. She's always smiling. To her, everything is perfect. She left the millionaire ideal to follow her heart, kissed you in the car park, you took her home and in one fell swoop she was complete, everything fell into place. She doesn't want anything more, completely content with you, together. Even now, you can see it in her face. There is still the faint wisp of a smile there, you notice as you gently brush a strand of gold from her perfect face.

If only everyone saw the world as she does…

You are exploring a completely different side to her now. Despite being her best friend for a great number of years, it was a side that was never unveiled to you. This side of her still has the same great mind, great courage, passion, but she is more relaxed, this is her real self, the vulnerable Nikki; who sleeps with her arms above her head and still craves to be loved unconditionally like a child, to catch up on all she missed after the death of her much missed Mother.

The sound of a mobile make you jump, and for a moment you freeze, afraid that it might wake her.

She stirs and gives a blissful sigh, before rolling over and burying herself in your chest. You reach over her and silence the monotonous drone.

"_Dr Cunningham's phone."_

There is a pause on the other end. You frown.

"_Right. Harry, I need you to look at a body found at King's Cross pronto."_

"_Ok, give me a minute."_

"_We don't have a minute."_

His voice is colder than usual, even for 6am on a Tuesday morning.

"_Oh, and Dr Cunningham? Not your phone."_

Before you get a chance to ask what the bloody hell Leo is talking about, he's hung up, leaving you to take the phone from your ear slowly, scowling.

Then you realise.

Nikki is awake now, if not a little groggy. She's watching you wide eyed from her position against your chest, your free arm around her.

"_What's up?"_

"_I just picked up your phone."_

"_Shit."_

You feel like a child about to be reprimanded by their father when you step into the Lyell Centre late that morning to find Leo waiting in the office area, arms folded, face like thunder. Despite the death of poor 87 year old Meredith Lauder on a sleeper train at some point this morning – more than likely heart failure – it had been a surprisingly good morning. You find yourself giving him a lop-sided grin and shrugging your shoulders.

"_I don't know what you want me to say, Leo."_

Evidently, he isn't amused.

"_How about you start with how long this has been going on."_

"_About two months."_

This seems to make him worse. He pushes himself off the desk and paces, hands running through his short, silver hair. You're not sure you understand what the big deal is. It's just you and Nikki, not the collapse of the world's banking system.

"_Not a crime, is it? Look we were going to tell you."_

When he snaps back, he looks panicked, like a trapped animal and it makes you angry, furious almost that he can't just accept that he was kept out of this particular loop, and be happy for you.

"_So! What stopped you?"_

There has been a power struggle of late, between the two of you. Since his break up with Janet he's shut you out. Sometimes it's like he's deliberately disagreeing with you to cause an argument. Sometimes you present him with ridiculous concepts simply to rile him up. Now, however, you want him on side, need his support. A blessing of some sort.

"_We just…wanted time…to know…"_

He's not facing you now but in that moment his body language changes, he seems to calm slightly, though the palpable tension in the room has far from dissipated.

"…_We had to know it was right, for us. Believe me Leo you would have known first."_

He turns to you now, and the look in his eyes almost breaks your heart. He looks sad, but more than that, disappointed.

"_It's not fair Harry. She loves you."_

You shake your head, fists clenched. Why can't he take you seriously? Why has he always seen the worst in you? You work your fingers to the bone for him, to make him proud, to impress him. Yet you do _one thing _wrong and…

"_And I her!"_

"_It's too soon Harry! Even I can see that!"_

"_Just because you can't hold together a good relationship doesn't mean I can't!"_

It was a cheap blow, you know that and regret it seconds after you've said it. The silence that follows is deafening. The pain in his eyes, immeasurable.

Like an angelic hiatus suddenly from nowhere, she floats in chatting away, in a white blouse and minimal make-up, and freezes when she sees the warrior stance you have both taken up against each other. Gently she places the coffees on her desk, murmurs that she'll go and scrub up and leaves as quickly as she entered.

"_How often are you going to therapy?"_

"_Once a month…maybe a bit less."_

"_And I presume she knows about that, yes?"_

You tilt your head slightly to watch her through the glass door. She lingers in the corridor for a moment, watching the water, biting the skin at the side of her nails, before drifting through the doors of the locker room.

"_No."_

"_It's too soon, Harry. You need to sort yourself out first before you can even think about giving her what she deserves."_

"_And you think I can just tell her that? I can't make her wait forever, Leo, she won't have it!"_

"_No, of course. Lying is always preferable."_

The rage you can feel bubbling inside you is almost destroying you from the inside out. You hold your breath, but it doesn't calm you. Why can't he just accept that everything is fine now? That you're fine?

"_She means a lot to me too, Harry. I don't want to see either of you get hurt."_

Before turning away to follow Nikki he leaves you with a firm nod. A truce. For now. And it's enough. For now. He is trusting you with her, believing in you.

Later, alone in the locker room you release a long breath and sit down heavily on a bench. Leo is right. He's always right. You know, deep down, it probably is too soon to get her involved in the complicated wilderness of your mind. But you'll never tell him that. She comes in shortly after you and squeezes your shoulder affectionately on her way to her locker.

"_Home?"_

"_Mmm."_

"_Mine?"_

"_Mmm."_

You hear her turn behind you, sensing something is wrong. She comes back round to you and pulls you to your feet. Your hands automatically find her waist and join you from knee to pelvis. Her hands reach up to cup your face and with soft thumbs she gently strokes the dark, thin skin below your eyes.

"_You're tired."_

You don't speak, but your eyes meet hers and you try and convey everything through them, everything your feeling; the pain, the love, the fatigue and you try and show her everything that you're sorry for, hoping, willing her to understand.

"_Oh babes."_

And she does to an extent. She always has.

Running her hands down your arms she catches your hands in her own and squeezes, places a soft kiss to your cheek and with a promise of _"Quiet night tonight." _ She springs off to change.

She keeps her promise and in that night you re-discover why and how much you love her. This seems to happen every night on a different scale and it's such a nice feeling that you're sure you wouldn't mind feeling it every night until you die, thus you haven't spent a single night alone since that car park kiss…and the evening that followed.

You're tired, you know she's not. You know she'd rather have gone for a drink, or caught a movie, or have gone to bed for other purposes, but she knows you're tired. She runs a bubble bath with candles and tells you to get in, when you come out, she's made you both a hot chocolate and has your dressing gown on the radiator. Later, she takes off her clothes and switches off the lights and takes you to bed. She pulls your head down to her chest, holding you tight in her arms and you allow yourself to lean on her, wrap your arms around her soft, warm body and listen to her breathing, and feel her hands in your hair. You feel safe and loved and relieved. She sings, softly as she holds you, softly smoothing your hair down with a gentle hand, as if lulling a small child to sleep, a song that shocks you, as it is always one that you feel sums the two of you up. It was playing that night at her flat when you had borne your soul to her.

"_Come on, oh my star is fading__  
__And I swerve out of control__  
__If I, if I'd only waited__  
__I'd not be stuck here in this hole__"_

It's almost as though she knows what you're feeling, she can see inside you, and it feels like a weight being lifted from you, even if only for the night, you feel relaxed.

You are asleep in minutes.

In that last split second of consciousness, you wonder if things could truly be okay.


	4. Almost

**You guys are just amazing. You really are. You reviews make me cry with happiness! So here's a little treat for you. It wasn't going to go in, I had it written but I was going to keep this first part of the story as a 4-parter, but seeing as you're all lovely, and you are all fond of a bit of fluff (aren't we all?) I thought I'd pop this in too. So, for now, revel in this little fluffy bubble :)**

**Cheers again lads xxx**

It's _almost_ perfect.

A warm, early summer's night. You shouldn't have a care in the world.

She's perfect, she's beautiful, she's yours and she's tucked into your side, safe and relaxed, your arm curled around her bare body, chin resting in her hair.

It's _almost _silent, unusual for your location in the centre of London and for a moment you wonder if you're dreaming.

No. The tight knot in your stomach reminds you that this is most certainly your reality.

You thought it would vanish, when she came along. You thought she could cure you, fix you.

The realisation that only you could do that is pretty terrifying.

"_Har?"_

"_Mmm?"_

Her voice is slurred with fatigue. Her fingers stretch and recoil against your naked skin, a repetitive movement, like a comfort to a small child, it's as if she needs to be constantly reassured that you're real. An attempt to be close to you. You know how much trust she places in you, how relaxed she becomes in your company.

Sometimes that pressure is almost too much to stand.

"_What do we do at the lab?"_

You raise an eyebrow, moving your head to look her in the eye.

"_I'm glad you finally asked that. Well, what we do is this, we take dead bodies and perform medical procedures on them to determine cause of death, now that's called a post-mortem, Nikki."_

She rolls her eyes dramatically and bats you on the shoulder.

"_No! I mean about Leo. He's angry with us."_

You take a nonchalant stance, something that has become a habit of yours, it helps you keep difficult subjects at arm's length. A defence mechanism, the therapist had said.

"_It's not really any of his business is it?"_

"_But I want him in our lives…in our…life."_

You stay silent. How does one reply to what she has just implied, anyway?

"_Y'know? The life we have…together?"_

You decide its' safest to change the subject slightly.

"_He's not angry with you, just me."_

"_But I don't want you to fall out with him, either."_

"_Why does it matter?"_

"_We're supposed to be a couple, Harry."_

"_So, we have to be joined at the bloody hip? Just cool down a bit will you?"_

She sits up suddenly, staring at you, an expression on her face a mixture of shock and anger. You think she probably would have looked less disgruntled if you had just dumped right then.

"_You're really not taking this seriously, are you?"_

"_Nikki, I came in tonight to find you lying across the kitchen counter in your underwear. What is there to take seriously?"_

Wrong answer.

Before you can register what's happening, she has flown from the bed, thrown on some clothes and stormed from the room. Having only just had time to register that perhaps your last statement hadn't gone down too well, you stumble out into the hallway, nothing more than hands covering your modesty. She's grabbing her car keys and slipping on trainers.

"_Oh come on, it was a joke!"_

"_Yeah, because EVERYTHING'S a joke, isn't it? Call me when you've grown up."_

Your face falls as she slams your front door. You close your eyes. Tightly.

...

"_Grow up, Harry."_

"_Anna…"_

_The majority of your relationship has been conducted by phone, but you know her. And you know she has a temper on her. You could follow her, but what good would that do? No, it would simply make her worse. _

_So, as your girlfriend is brutally bound and murdered by a stranger, you sit upstairs and smile about the Mother of your child's overreaction to your lack of commitment to your relationship._

_Will you ever sleep soundly again?_

_..._

The physical pain of the memory is almost too much, usually it sits in the back of your mind, more like a dull, mocking ache.

You lost her.

And now you're losing Nikki.

Despite an absurd lack of clothing, you sprint after her, down the stairs and into the court yard. Thankfully it's empty, except for Nikki, who is just about to get into her car. Her skin is so pale it is almost luminous, due to the late hour, she is tired. Your heart is beating so fast you think it might explode. Not for the first time since Budapest, you panic. So you do the only thing you can. What you always do these days. You think of Anna. How beautiful she was. How stupid you'd been. What you would do if you could have just one more day with her. What you would say.

"_MARRY ME."_

You holler across the empty space, into the wind and it echoes through the concrete distance between you.

She has frozen. Slowly, carefully, she stops. Closing the car door, gently so it barely makes a sound, she turns. She begins to walk towards you. You are stark naked, shivering, but a smile doesn't cross her face.

"_What did you say?"_

"_Be my wife, Nikki Alexander."_

"_But-But it's so soon…"_

"_Why wait?"_

Ever the sceptic, she looks from your bony, pale shins, up to slightly warmer eyes.

"_Is this another joke?"_

"_Do I look like I'm joking?"_

There is a moment of silence. You've never proposed marriage before, never even considered it. But you have imagined it. You had an image in your head of how it would be. This most certainly wasn't it.

"_Do it properly then."_

"_Niks, I've got no clothes on."_

"_Do it, or it doesn't count."_

Giving an audible sigh, you sink to your knee, wincing as the cold and gritty concrete meets your skin. Her smile increases from this moment, and by the time you've taken her hands in yours and looked back up to her, she is beaming from ear to ear.

"_Nicola Alexander, will you do me the greatest honour of –"_

She doesn't let you finish, pulling you back up to your feet, cupping your face in her hands.

"_Yes! Yes, yes, yes!"_

You release a breath you weren't aware you were holding as she envelops you in a tight hug. You feel like you should tell her that you love her. You do. You know she knows you do. But you've never said it aloud. Too soon though, the moment has passed and she speaks.

"_Everything is going to be okay, isn't it?"_

You're not quite sure what she means. Is she talking about the Leo situation? Or your relationship?

Or you?

"_Don't mess this up, Harry."_

"_I won't mess this up. I promise."_


	5. When the time comes

**Here we are! The final chapter of All Too Soon! Everything else is more or less written so it's just a case of tweaking and editing on my part and the next story will be ready! That is if you want it? Might not be as fluffy...**

To say you were concerned about the whole affair would be an understatement.

The two of them certainly pick their timing.

You wonder if she knows what she's letting herself in for. She's a clever girl, she must know that he's not quite himself yet, that he needs time and things might be a bit precarious for a while.

But for him, she appears to roll with every single punch thrown her way. Whether she ends up in tears, hurt and alone, she never stops. Not once has she given up on him.

Having seen them today you can understand why.

You don't think you've ever before seen someone so in love.

Seeing them show such public, exclusive affection for each other is almost uncomfortable at first. They never seemed to have gone through the '_I can't take my hands off you' honeymoon_ phase that usually bestows a new relationship. Not in your presence anyway. You think you remember she took his hand once, as they left the office, but nothing more. Maybe, you wonder, it had already happened, all those years ago before their relationship even started, or maybe they were just being tactful, with you having only just come out of a 3 year relationship, because you'd always thought you'd notice the shift between the two of them. A shift that turned out to be relatively seamless.

The little coastal lodge is full of people now, and you are grateful for the closing in of the evening as it smothers the heat of the day. You watch him making polite conversation with guests, but you watch his eyes dart from corner to corner, person to person looking for her. Of course had she been in the hall she would have been immediately noticeable; a vision in white, an understated, but considerably bohemian dress, hair adorned with flowers and loose curls. It suited her perfectly.

You feel a light hand on your arm and you recognise the perfume filling your senses before you even turn round.

"_Hey."_

For some reason, you hadn't even considered that they would have invited Janet. Yet here she stands, beside you, and the smile on her face reminds you of the day you first met. Happy, confident, independent. Nothing like the plaintive, tearful, lovesick woman you had left behind all those months ago. She is no longer needy, clinging to you, suffocating you, in fact all traces of the woman you had turned her into are gone. Ironically you feel in your soul, a spark, reigniting the first surge of love you ever felt for her.

Or maybe it's the alcohol.

"_Enjoying yourself?"_

"_Not exactly popping down the road to an old friend's wedding reception, is it?"_

"_Certainly not."_

You don't think it would have worked anywhere else. Harry had organised that side of things and from the beginning of preparations South Africa had been the only setting he would consider. It was her home after all, and she was obviously still very much in love with it.

It could only ever be the best for her.

You momentarily wonder how it must feel for someone to love you that completely. That they would literally move the earth for you.

"_Have you seen Niks?"_

Harry comes out of the blue and addresses Janet. Perhaps he knows your own mind is elsewhere.

"_I think she headed out a while ago, said she needed some space."_

"_I best go and find her, she's neglecting her wifely duties already."_

He and Janet share a small laugh and the three of you descend into silence. While you are quite comfortable, it would seem that Janet is shifty, awkward, as if something needs to be said. You sigh inwardly, unsure if your factual, scientific brain can cope with any more romantic talk today. Harry excuses himself and leaves through a gaggle of dancing relatives.

"_I've missed you, Leo. I've missed your company. I hope we can be friends."_

Her voice is no more than a whisper, delicate, but not weak, not like she _was_. You feel like you owe this new Janet an explanation, something better than simply '_I don't love you anymore'._ Before you can think of something to say, she's gone, caught up with Charlie and Zak, who have obviously drank more than their share of the cava.

You find yourself in desperate need of some air, even if it does burn your lungs slightly and you find yourself out on the wooden balcony looking out to the sea and the blood red sun sinking down into it. On the rocks , the tide rushing to them and then drawing back, sits Nikki, looking out, just as you are, into the horizon, white dress splayed out around her, bare feet, and blonde curls caught slightly by the warm breeze. If you didn't know her, you'd think you'd imagined her as she sits, looking so utterly perfect.

Another figure appears from the corner of your eye, sees her and slows his pace as he walks towards her. In his suit, Harry climbs the rock and lowers himself down next to her, one hand balancing himself on the rock behind her.

You can't help but wonder what they're talking about as you watch them together, secretly from the background, as they catch a rare, intimate moment together on their wedding night. You admire them, for taking the time for one another and not giving into the demands of their many guests. Today after all, should be about them.

They are well suited, you think, as she bows her head against him, fitting it into the crook of his neck, but you wonder if they still have some journey to go, before they really appreciate each other. This isn't the end, but the beginning. They are in love, but that is a mere foundation on which an affair, a relationship, a marriage is built.

Perhaps if they'd got to this place sooner, none of this bad stuff of late would have happened, you consider as you watch them dance together for the final time that evening. But perhaps, if this had happened sooner, the sight in front of you wouldn't be quite so touching. Because when you look at them, you see love, affection, trust, humour, friendship. All a result of failed relationships, failed attempts, faked deaths, so much loss and even the things that worry you, the things that maybe only you can see, like the way she grips his hand a little too tightly, or his shaking hand on her hip or the way he closes his eyes when her intense, loving stare becomes too much.

You feel an affinity with the two of them as the song plays out and the lyrics strike a chord with you. You understand, everything that has happened to them, that has made them the duo they are now, and you are almost tearful as you wish, pray that you are wrong and this is their happily ever after.

_But time is on your side__  
__it's on your side now__  
__not pushing you down and all around__  
__it's no cause for concern._

She always thought there would be time…to know.

You wish Harry had more time.

He knows what's good for him; you can give him that, especially with his choice of bride. All you can do for them now, is pray that Mrs Nicola Cunningham has the strength left in her to deal with her troubled husband, when the time comes.

**Please review...if you want. It would make me very cheery! And once again thank you for all your support with this! Really means a lot.**

**Till the next installment!**

**DA xxx**


End file.
